


Even my dad does sometimes (oneshot)

by imthederpyfox



Series: Sanders sides [6]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Blood, Crying, Cutting, Hair Tugging, I keep torturing him dont i?, I know i shouldnt, Let me know if i should add more tags, Oneshot, Other, Sad!virgil, Sadness, Self Harm, Song fic, Suicide, Swearing, WARNINGS APPLY, im sorry, lip biting, no happy ending, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 03:05:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13941231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imthederpyfox/pseuds/imthederpyfox
Summary: Virgil has had enough.He'd been keeping this at bay for far too long already, he just needed to take that nudge off and do it already.He couldn't bare to be the bringer of pain to Thomas and the others anymore.This was for the best, right?





	Even my dad does sometimes (oneshot)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry, I'm still venting about recent events in my own life and I know it seems I'm really mean to my favourite characters but I need to reiterate that all these characters I love and Virgil is my favourite.   
> I'm sorry...
> 
> Of course, warnings do apply, this may get quite graphic.

His scalp hurt.   
His nails were bloody.   
His cheeks were stained.   
But the tears weren't stopping. 

\------------

It's alright to cry  
Even my dad does sometimes

\------------

They hated him, so, so, so much... How had he ever thought he was a part of the group? He could never be one of them.   
How had he tricked himself into thinking he was?   
He gripped at his hair more, biting down on his lip until it bled worse than before. He was pretty sure there was at least 20 different puncture marks where blood oozed out and dribbled down his chin. But he just couldn't stop crying.   
He was still hyperventilating twenty minutes later.   
But there was a reason he didn't wipe his eyes or remove he blood.   
Tonight was the night.   
He could feel it. 

\------------

So don't wipe your eyes  
Tears remind you you're alive

\------------

He'd put it off for too long anyway. He grabbed his razor with shaky hands and threw off his hoody, draping it over his legs.   
Who cared if it got stained with blood?   
Not like anyone would miss him or his strange sense of fashion.   
And as he made the first cut he thought of what he was going to do, and knew it was right.

\------------

It's alright to die  
'Cause death's the only thing you haven't tried

\------------

He was so exhausted. His throat closing all the time, the bag under his eyes getting worse, the others upset or crying or generally being anything other than happy whenever he was around. He had made Patton cry before. He had made Logan so angry he didn't talk for a few days. He had made Roman so isolated that he hadn't come out of his room for hours.   
He had made them feel like himself.   
He had often thought of going to them in these situations. Where he was sprawled on his bathroom floor, staring down at the marks he was making, blood, deep, red, purple, maroon, splattering and twisting down his arms from the open, throbbing cuts. Blood cascading with every pulse of his cold, useless heart.   
But he didn't go to them.   
He knew what they'd say.   
The same thing he reassured others who he'd seen in this mess. 

\------------

But just for tonight  
Hold on

\------------

There was always one song that made him rethink. But after repeating it multiple times, thinking of the usual - how much this would hurt Patton primarily. As it said. Patton cried. Patton shook with sobs. And Virgil had been there... He was probably the reason - he still knew he had to do it. He knew it was now.   
And he wasn't even scared.  
He just felt numb. 

\------------

So live life like you're giving up  
'Cause you act like you are

\------------

The amount of times he'd been sarcastic or pushed people away with his sense of humour or general presence. Did they know how he felt about himself? Did they know how he felt about them...   
He had just wanted to belong. But they were all too different from himself. He would never belong. They all knew it.   
Nobody would care... Nobody would even notice.

\------------

Go ahead and just live it up  
Go on and tear me apart

\------------

He ripped the razor through the soft flesh on his forearm, but this time it wasn't horizontal. It was vertical. And it HURT. He bit his lip to stop from whimpering or calling out in pain. He felt it pop and he gripped it quickly.   
He deserved it.   
He deserved it.  
He deserved it.

\------------

It's alright to shake  
Even my hand does sometimes

\------------

His nails were digging into the hot skin around the wound but he knew he had to be quick, he quickly moved the razor to his other hand, shocked it still mostly worked, and did the same to the other arm.   
He looked down at his once purple hoody, the patchwork now covered in the black abyss of his own blood, sickly sweet looking like treacle against the material.   
He clenched his eyes shut and gripped his jaw closed, grinding his teeth in pain, stifling his sobs only just as he could hear himself hiccuping.

\------------

So inside we rage  
Against the dying of the light

\------------

He looked down at his arms, blurry through his tears and knew he had to do something else for good measure, so before he could slump back against the bathtub too much and loose feeling, he shot up and grabbed the tub of pills on the edge of the sink, knocking the one next to it to the floor where they cascaded out onto the tile.   
He shakily grabbed the top of the bottle he held and fell back agaisnt the bath, feeling a bruise already setting in where his back had hit it. He managed to somehow get the cap off, and downed as many as he could at a time until all of them - and half the ones on the floor - had gone.   
He felt a calmness wash over him as he no longer felt the pain in his arms. And he hated himself for wishing he had tried this sooner.   
That was selfish.   
He deserved the pain.  
But it felt so good not to be able to feel a lot right now...

\------------

It's alright to say  
That death's the only thing you haven't tried

\------------

His head was fuzzy, but in a good way. He could feel himself spacing out, staring forward at a blood splatter across his grey sink cabinet. He stared at that spot as he slid down the side of the tub, his arms and legs no longer working as blood still pooled out around him. 

\------------

But just for today  
Hold on

\------------

Thomas was now listening to that song... Of course Virgil had influenced him to listen to a sad song. Of course he would cause more pain to his host.   
'Just hold on~'  
Oh Thomas... He wished he could have done.   
But like he knew, everyone cried, everyone shook, everyone needed that release.   
Unfortunately... This was his release.   
Because nothing else would have helped.   
He had accepted this.   
He knew it.   
Thomas sounded so sad...

\------------

So live life like you're giving up  
'Cause you act like you are

\------------

Defeatist...  
Silver tongue...  
Shadowling...  
Emo nightmare...  
The screaming and moaning whenever he turned up.  
He definitely deserved this. 

\------------

Go ahead and just live it up  
Go on and tear me apart

\------------

He was the enamy.  
The bad guy.  
Always the bad guy.

\------------

Hold on

\------------

No... Why?   
Why could he see the others now...  
Happy, smiling, laughing, including him. Logan's sly glances whenever he made a joke the logical side approved of. Of Roman's jolly smile and encouraging shoulder wiggles. Of Patton's reassuring shoulder pats and nudges and of course... His hugs.   
And it changed. It changed to bloody images of the others crying. Sobbing. Pleading with him.   
But why...?   
They didn't care...  
Even when Patton was crying and shaking in his arms. Even when Logan did the same.  
Even when Princey was the same.  
None of them cared.   
They were never there when he felt like that...  
Right...?

\------------

Live life like you're giving up  
'Cause you act like you are

\------------

He deserved this. And thats the last thing he thought as he slid the final way down to an uncomfortable position on the floor, his hoody gripped in his right hand, his lips parted slightly. His skin paled and almost white. His eyes still open, and his arms still bleeding.   
His final breathe left slowly, and his mind settling into a comforting darkness as his chest stopped moving.   
And suddenly he was still.  
Calm.  
Relaxed.  
For once.  
Finally.

\------------

Go ahead and just live it up  
Go on and tear me apart

\------------

And that's how they found him. 

\------------

And hold on

\------------

"Hold on."  
"Hold on, Virgil."  
"Hold on, V..."  
"Dear God please... Please just hold on..."  
"No... No! Please... Pl-please..."   
"Hold on."

 

 

Hold on.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any requests let me know
> 
> Wow I actually cried while writing this. Interesting...
> 
> Yhhh I may be going through some stuff right now. And this song by Ed Sheeren generally helps me through stuff but also makes me super upset a lot of the time as well because I relate to it so much...
> 
> I hope you guys like it and I apologise as well. Sorry...


End file.
